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Heart Surgeon The barmaid pulls pints Little does she know She pulls out a heart From each young man She will flirt with them They will bumble home And never tell their wives Of their hidden desires Their's is hunt-lust Something purely heartless Like a jackal laughing At the famine of it all She is their sustenance When she smiles at them That is the first warmth They've felt all week Each man stares into his glass The bell at last orders Rings like the parting shot Of lengthening time One whispers her name "Madonna, Sweet Mary" Another hugs his beery breath As if the traitor's kiss © David Incoll 2001 |
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Copyright by David Incoll 2001 |